


Watch Out, Boy

by siegeofangels



Series: goddess on a mountaintop [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Genital Piercing, Knotting, Vagina Dentata, Venus Flytrapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siegeofangels/pseuds/siegeofangels
Summary: Gina just goes, "Yeah, whatever, alphas fuck alphas, I want to see what it like." She shrugs and grins, showing all of her teeth. "I almost rip his dick off," she says with relish.





	Watch Out, Boy

They circle one another on the ice, the way you do with another alpha, the way you do with someone you're going to either fuck or fight. The fighting is something they're good at, yelling at each other on the ice, spitting vitriol. It makes Sasha wonder how they'd be in bed. 

TV timeout and Sasha looks over at the bench, where Zhenya is screaming at her teammates. He's never been caught, and while his wanting to sleep with her isn't necessarily about that, it's not not about that either. 

She catches Sasha looking at her and sneers. 

Yeah. Yeah, they're going to do this, it's just a matter of time. 

***

The time comes when they're at Worlds, wearing matching red tracksuits and surrounded by familiar faces and the melody of Russian spoken all around them. 

Someone is in heat, Sasha has no idea who. Someone on the hotel's staff, maybe, or a delivery man working up until the last minute. The scent is faint but it's enough to make everything feel--more, somehow, his senses heightened and his voice louder and his gestures more expansive. Zhenya’s feeling it too, he thinks: her eyes are brighter and she laughs loud and open and licks her teeth. 

She catches him looking at her again and smirks, and he smirks back from across the room of hockey players sprawled on hotel beds like so many wolves. 

One blink later and they're in her room, alone; another blink and no one is wearing a shirt and she's got him pinned against the wall, sucking on his tongue. 

The way she's leaning her forearms on the wall to either side of his head boxes him in, like he's caught by her already, and he finds he rather likes the feeling. (He also really likes what the pose is doing to her tits, to be honest, and he has to give himself a little talking-to to convince himself to move one hand lower.) 

He brushes a thumb under the waistband of the ridiculous track pants, a question. 

Zhenya bites his lower lip and them pulls back a bit. No, no, he thinks, and slips his other hand around to her back to keep her from going too much further. 

“You're not going to run when you suddenly remember I'm an alpha, are you?” she says, and takes his hand in hers so she can pull it to her lips and suck his thumb into her mouth, biting gently. 

The soft-and-hard wet heat derails his brain for a minute, and all he can do is close his eyes and thunk his head back against the wall.“Trust me,” he manages, “I haven't forgotten.” 

She lets his thumb go with a kiss then, and he swipes it under her navel, trailing it down. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

Zhenya nods and leans in to nuzzle under his ear. “You going to let me trap you, then?” The words and the whisper send shivers up his spine. 

A million over-the-top images flood his imagination; he hasn't ever been trapped, only seen it in shitty porn that was probably faked, anyway. It's not like there's anything to see, just feel, impossible pressure around his dick, made even more intense by--he inhales, and dives back in to stick his tongue in her mouth again for a while. 

When he comes up for air, he says, “You going to let me knot you?” 

He slides his hand lower again, and this time she lets him, lets him explore and pet and slowly slide one finger into her. This is the same, then, so far. 

Zhenya squirms a little bit on his finger, leans her forehead on his temple so he can hear the small sounds that escape her lips. “More,” she says. “Give me two.” She's breathing heavily. 

Two fingers and he circles them firmly around her walls, shallow inside her. 

“Oh, you bastard,” she gasps, and thumps his shoulder with her fist. “Fuck you for being good at this.” 

Sasha stops. “You thought I'd be bad?” he says, incredulous. 

“Thought you'd just--ahh!--go for it, I have to train so many men.” She hitches a leg up into his hip, trapping his wrist against the pulled-tight waistband of her pants. His hand slides deeper into her, and now he can feel the blunt nubs of her teeth on his knuckles. 

“Like that?” he says, and tries to circle his fingers again. 

“Mmm,” she says, and it's fucking amazing, but--

“Zhenya,” he breathes into her hair. “Zhenya, darling, if you break my wrist with your pussy, Coach will kill us both. Can we move to the bed?” 

Her laughter pulses through her body, and he would stay up against this wall all night, but he is genuinely afraid for his wrist, so when she lowers her leg he withdraws his hand to steer her toward the bed with both hands planted firmly at her waist and his mouth on hers. 

She falls back onto the mattress easily, and pulls her pants off while watching him do the same. There's a hungry look in her eye when he's fully naked. 

He takes a minute to palm himself and preen a little, showing off. He does have a nice cock, thank you very much, and it gets even nicer. 

She gets her hands on it as soon as he's close enough, smiling like a cat. 

He spends a little while sliding against her, teasing her clit with his piercing, and then she smacks him firmly on the ass and says very seriously, “Fuck me, come on.” 

Sasha works himself into her by increments, kissing the little sounds out of her mouth and trying not to die at the feeling of her teeth against the head of his cock. Once he’s fully seated, she takes a deep breath and lifts her hands over her head to brace herself on the headboard (tits!). 

“Okay,” she gasps. “Do it, you need to come before I trap you, _go_ \--” which is just what he needs to let himself take his pleasure from her, to close his eyes and fuck her hard enough that she squeaks.

The blunt teeth inside her are rubbing on him in just the right way, and it doesn’t take too long before he’s muffling a yell in her hair and coming, his knot swelling inside her. 

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_ ,” she manages, and he pulls himself together enough to get his thumb on her clit--

\--and then her pussy is squeezing at the base of his knot, impossibly tight. 

Sasha has had teeth knocked out and sat down in ice baths and ridden exercise bikes until he’s puked, but Zhenya’s teeth trapping him, tightening around his knot, is the most intense feeling he’s ever experienced. 

“Holy mother of God,” he says without meaning to, because she has him, he’s _trapped_ , he is not in charge here at all, there is nothing his dick can do in this situation to help him. 

He might be crying. 

“Oh God oh God oh God,” Zhenya is saying, and just pants for a minute. Then she moves, managing to stretch one leg impossibly higher and hook it over his shoulder, then bringing the other leg up as well. 

All Sasha can do is squeeze his eyes shut while she’s moving because the feeling is on the verge of “so good he might die” and “too much for his neurons to even handle” and he doesn’t want his brain to explode in this hotel room. 

“Come on, baby,” she says, and his hips push forward of their own accord, letting her teeth slide down to where the swell of his knot goes down, trapping him even deeper. 

It lessens the pressure a little. Not much, but enough that he thinks he might not die right now. 

Which means he has enough brainpower in him to rally and bring one hand to her breast, because you don’t just lie there like a lump while someone’s taking your knot. 

Zhenya swats him away. “I know you’re a gentleman, but you really don’t want to make me come again,” she says. 

“Thank God,” he says. “Am I crushing you?” 

“Hmm,” Zhenya says, and squirms a little. The motion does things to his dick that make him want to hurl himself off a cliff. “No, we’re good for now, you feel good.” She pets his head and shoulders, combs her fingers through his hair. 

They lie like that, every minute movement sending shocks of feeling up Sasha’s spine, until finally he feels his knot start to recede, feels her teeth release, and he can disengage their bodies from each other. He collapses on the mattress next to Zhenya like a giant pile of useless meat, the condom spilling all over the sheet. 

Sasha would pat his dick in a “good game, little guy,” gesture, but he thinks maybe he doesn’t want anything to touch it ever again. He flops the corner of the sheet over himself instead, feeling silly but also entirely justified. 

“That was the most amazing experience of my life,” Sasha says. “Let’s never do it again.” 

They bump fists. “Don’t ever bring your cock near me again, seriously,” Zhenya says. “Fuck, I have to skate tomorrow.” 

Dammit, he has to get dressed at some point. He has to put on a _jock_. “I should have let you break my wrist,” Sasha says, and throws an arm over his eyes.


End file.
